


we've only just begun

by foxwatson



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Gay ted, M/M, Old Dudes in Love, Post-Bill & Ted Face the Music, THAT'S ACTUALLY IMPORTANT HERE this fic actually has a lot of ftm spoilers, anyways uh, kind of an older ted coming out character study basically, old dudes feelings, set immediately post ftm, so either read with the warning in mind or you can't say i didn't warn you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwatson/pseuds/foxwatson
Summary: The fact of the matter is that Ted’s wanted to kiss Bill for more of his life than he hasn’t - and even while they're traveling through time and trying to save the world, he kind of can't stop thinking about it.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	we've only just begun

**Author's Note:**

> AGAIN I WILL REPEAT: this fic has actual face the music spoilers! you should probably watch it first i promise it's very good.
> 
> title credit to the carpenters' we've only just begun, obviously. i am a big gay sap, thank you for asking.

The fact of the matter is that Ted’s wanted to kiss Bill for more of his life than he hasn’t. It’s a thought so familiar now that it usually comes and goes without much additional thought. See Bill early in the morning drinking his coffee, try not to kiss him. See Bill late at night rubbing his eyes before squinting at the new lyrics, try not to kiss him. See Bill play guitar, see him give their daughters a hi-five, see him smile in excitement about a new album - Ted just smiles and watches and clenches his hands into fists, and doesn’t kiss him.

Even after 30-something years, though, Ted should totally have it down to an art form. He should be able to just tuck it in his chest and never think about it - and usually that’s how it works. It’s like the background noise in his brain, permanently tuned out. Then, though, sometimes it hits him, just like the first time all over again, and it kind of makes his chest ache, and it doesn’t really feel like background noise anymore. It feels like the one true thing in his life, that he loves Bill more than anyone, and he can’t say it like that, and he can’t do anything about it.

For some reason, it hits him like that even while they’re traveling through time to try and save the universe. There’s so many other things he should be paying attention to, or worrying about - but confronted with this other version of himself, tired and older and arguably even more washed up, Ted finds himself feeling strange.

The first time he’d been angry, provoked by the argument - but now, standing outside of Dave Grohl’s house, Ted’s realizing maybe he wasn’t angry for the reasons he thought he was. He’s ashamed, sure, that in any timeline he could lose touch with Billie, that he could sink this low - but beyond that, he just keeps thinking about how in this timeline, somehow, he still has Bill. And more than that - for all their talk about their wives, something seems different about their relationship in this other timeline. They sit closer together, touch more, seem more - open somehow.

He keeps thinking, and lingering, keeps getting distracted - and he slowly starts to realize he’s jealous. Not of everything else, not of the mess his other self is in, but just of the idea of some universe where it’s just him and Bill again.

Sometimes, on the rare nights when they don’t just sleep in the garage, or the living room, or wherever they’re up late working, when Bill actually goes back to his own house, Ted misses all the years they shared an apartment, and a room. For all the heinous parts of feeling like he’d be doing something wrong or making Liz unhappy - the idea of just him and Bill in the van, on the road, or him and Bill in a big house together, working on a song - it’s nice.

So Ted thinks about it, even when he sees that other self in prison. He thinks about it when he sees their shared room at the retirement place.

He does manage to focus again when Billie and Thea are actually in danger, because somehow in all this they ended up in Hell - but once all of that’s worked out, Ted finds he’s still haunted by his own thoughts.

Even saving the world can only do so much when it comes to putting his mind at ease. He’s happy they finally figured out the song, saved the world and did what they were supposed to - but then the song is over, most of the audience went back to their appropriate place and time, and Ted’s just standing sweaty on a stage, looking over at Bill, watching him smile, and wishing he either knew how to do something or make himself stop wanting to.

Billie and Thea go to take the historical figures back, the ones that they brought back themselves. At some point, people will probably post phone footage of the show online, or talk about the dudes who brought everyone the instruments, and there’ll be a big media frenzy, just like after the Battle of the Bands. For now, though, Ted’s tired, and Bill looks tired, too - and so they go home.

“Dude, it kind of feels like we should celebrate or something, but I’m exhausted, you know?” Bill says.

Still sort of lost for words, Ted nods at him. “Yeah, no, I get it, dude. We should all just go home. Get some rest. Me and Liz will just - see you tomorrow.”

Bill nods at him, for maybe just a few moments too long. “Yeah. Yeah, of course, dude. See you tomorrow.”

They nod at each other, and Ted goes into his house, watching Bill walk into his.

Liz is waiting for him by the door. “Theodore - I do think we need to talk about something.”

Ted blinks at her, still feeling dazed. “Like now? I thought we kind of - figured everything out. Right?’

“Not exactly. I don’t think Jo and I wanted to - ruin your moment.”

His shoulders tensing up a little, Ted just stands there, stuck by the doorway. “That doesn’t sound great, Liz.”

“If you want to wait and talk about it in the morning, we can. I just thought maybe you’d rather do it now.”

He shakes his head, ducking behind his hair. “You’re not leaving, but you’re leaving,” he sighs out.

“I don’t have to move out until you want me to. We don’t have to tell Billie until you’re ready. But Ted - you try so hard. Not just with the song. With - me. It’s lovely and sweet, and I appreciate the work you’ve put in but - what Jo and I saw - it wasn’t just all those timelines where you’re miserable. Surely you have to understand that. What I saw was - it just forced me to realize how much you don’t tell me. And you don’t have to. To some extent - I knew when we got married, in part, that I married you because you were lovely and kind and you saved me from a life I truly believe I wasn’t fit for. You’ve never done anything to hurt me.” Reaching out, she takes his hand and squeezes it tightly. “But that’s why I think maybe it’s time I do something for you, in return.  _ You’re _ not happy. Not - really. I can tell that you’re not. And I want you to be. So now that you’ve finished the song, and you’ve saved the universe, I want you to be free to do whatever makes you happy. And I don’t think that involves feeling that you have to stay married to me.”

“Liz-” he starts, but his voice is rough, choked with emotion, and as he starts to tear up, she pulls him into a hug.

“Oh, Ted. Don’t cry. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t - when we were kids, I didn’t know, Liz, I thought I just didn’t feel it right yet, and then I never knew how to-”

“It’s okay. Really, it is. I’ve known for a long time, but it wasn’t my place to tell you how you felt.” She tightens her arms around his shoulders, and he wraps his arms gently around her waist, holding her back.

“I love you,” he tells her.

“I know that. I know.” She runs one hand gently through his hair. “I love you, too. You’re one of my dearest friends, and I think we’ve had an excellent time. We’ve raised one of the two most wonderful children in the world. But now I think maybe it’s time you get to have what you really want, Theodore.”

His hands spasm a little, pressed against her back, and he presses his face closer against her shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of her blouse. “I don’t know that I can just - have that, Liz.”

For that, she tugs at his hair a little, and he winces and pulls back, frowning at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you really think he’s going to say no? After all this?”

Ted flushes, more caught out than he expected. “I don’t - I mean he might. He’s not even - I mean he-”

She sighs, and rubs apologetically at the back of his head. Then she leans up, kisses his forehead, and finally pulls back completely. “If he doesn’t show up at the garage in less than ten minutes, I’ll pay you as much money as you’d like. In the meantime, there’s ginger ale in the fridge, and I’m going to go to bed.”

Ted watches as she goes into the kitchen, pours herself a glass of wine, and then walks towards the bedroom.

“And garage, please. I’m - very happy for both of you, but keep it out of the house for now.”

Ted can feel the way his face heats up even more, but Liz doesn’t even look back. Still - he’s uncomfortable, still in his stuffy marriage counseling clothes, and he goes into the dresser in the guest room just so he can change into something less stiff. He opts for an old threadbare Nirvana t-shirt, all full of holes, and a pair of pajama bottoms. He rubs over his face, and stretches out his back, and then makes his way into the garage to flop onto the old, sagging couch.

He’s torn between his knowledge that Liz is hardly ever wrong, and the sinking feeling he has that Bill’s already asleep in his own bed at home, next to Joanna.

After a minute or two, Ted stumbles back inside, grabs a little bottle of ginger ale, and settles back in the garage with it, fidgeting with the label as much as he’s drinking it.

After five minutes, he’s finished his drink, and sits there playing with the empty bottle, resisting the urge to just go back inside and sleep on the couch, curled up under a blanket, his head under a pillow.

After eight minutes - there’s a knock on the garage door.

Ted pads over in his socked feet, and presses the button - and as the door rolls up, moving out of the way, there’s Bill, backlit by the still-setting San Dimas sun. His curls are messy, and he has on dirty tennis shoes and sweatpants, and an  _ old _ Wyld Stallyns shirt he usually wears to sleep in. Ted blinks at him.

“Hey, dude,” Ted says softly.

“Hey,” Bill says back. “Can I-”

Without hesitation, Ted nods, stepping back to let him by, and he closes the garage door behind him. “What’s up, Bill? I thought you were tired, dude.”

“Well I was, but-” Bill stops, frowning as he scratches just above his eyebrow. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, and laughs a little as he sits down heavily on the couch. “I don’t even know where to start, Ted.”

Carefully, Ted sits down beside him. He leaves what feels like less than their usual amount of space, on purpose. “Well I mean - maybe I can start,” he suggests, shrugging. “I’m - I came out here cause Liz and I had like, a  _ talk _ when we got home. It was kind of heavy.”

Bill nods. “Yeah, I - Jo kind of said some stuff when we got home, too. I don’t know if ours was the same cause like I-” He huffs out through his nose and rubs his hands on his thighs. “There’s something I kind of didn’t tell you, Ted. I think maybe I should.”

“What is it, dude?”

“Jo and I kind of - haven’t really been together for a while. I mean not - I don’t know, at first we just talked about an open relationship, you know, but then it was mostly just her dating, I never - did anything. I felt kind of weird about it, you know? Not - I mean, I was happy for her, but I guess- I was already pretty happy. Us just being friends didn’t really change that.”

Surprised, Ted frowns. “But what about marriage counseling, dude? If you guys were already, like, not together…”

That makes huff out a laugh. “Yeah, we - I don’t know that Jo and I went for the same reasons, but I mostly just went to back you up, dude. I think - maybe Jo felt like the open relationship thing wasn’t gonna work if we weren’t really even in a relationship anymore, and wanted to talk about that, which - I guess now we have.”

“Oh,” Ted says quietly. It’s a lot to wrap his head around. He thought all the stuff with Liz would be the hardest thing to process tonight - or maybe finally admitting to her how he’s been feeling for so long - but instead, now he’s faced with this. Bill’s been single for a while, and not dating, and went to marriage counseling with Ted just to back him up. He turns to look at Bill, and tries to glance instead of stare. “Liz and I broke up, too. But it’s- it’s kind of more complicated than that for us, too. But not cause of Liz, cause she’s been - way nicer about it than she had to be, you know, cause I-” Ted looks over at Bill again, meets his eyes and finds his brow furrowed with concern. In spite of how shaky he feels, and the nervous knot in his stomach, he just clenches his hands into fists on his legs and holds eye contact while he says something he’s never said out loud. “I think I’m gay, dude.”

Bill’s expression softens, his brow drawing up in surprise, and he reaches over, wrapping his hand around Ted’s wrist. “Yeah?” he asks softly.

Ted nods, finally looking away, down at the garage floor. “Yeah, dude. Like - ever since we were kids. I - I mean, you know how we used to joke about it, and stuff, and the way-” Ted’s voice catches a little. “The way my dad used to talk about it. I didn’t feel like that - made sense with the way I felt. And when we found Liz and Jo it all just kind of - fell into place, and I thought it would feel right once we got older. But then it - didn’t. Like ever.”

“Ted,” Bill says quietly - but Ted still can’t make himself look over. He feels Bill’s hand brush gently up his arm, rucking up his sleeve a little, and then Bill rubs over his shoulders and Ted realizes how tense he is. He struggles to try and relax - but then Bill tugs him into a hug, and Ted sags gratefully against him, face pressed against his shoulder. “I didn’t know, dude,” Bill says softly, muffled against his hair.

Slowly, Ted presses his hands against Bill’s waist, then shifts them to his back, holding him close - letting himself linger. “I know, dude. I’m sorry. I-”

“You don’t gotta be sorry, dude,” Bill tells him, pushing a hand up into Ted’s hair, cradling the back of his head. “I just wish I knew cause - I wish I could have helped, or something, you know?”

Ted wraps his arms tighter around Bill’s waist. “This helps,” he tells him, voice small.

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” Bill says, his voice rough suddenly, and he shifts his head, temple pressed to Ted’s. Their cheeks would be brushing if Ted’s hair wasn’t in the way.

“Thanks, Bill,” Ted says softly.

Bill rubs a hand up and down his back, soothing. “It’s no problem, dude. I-” His hand pauses in the center of Ted’s back, and clenches in the fabric of his shirt. “‘S not just you, you know. I think it’s a little different for me, but - I like dudes, too.”

It’s almost enough to make him pull back, just so he can try and check Bill’s face. Instead, after tensing up for a moment in surprise, he just moves his own hands up and down Bill’s back. “Really?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Ted swallows, nervous, and tries to ground himself by rubbing his cheek against the fabric of Bill’s shirt - by feeling the warm press of Bill’s hands, against the back of his head, and his lower back. “But if you and Jo were dating other people - why didn’t you date any dudes, then? You know, just to - like, try it. If you could.”

The hand on Ted’s back spasms a little again, clenching and unclenching in the fabric of his shirt. “She asked me that, too. I guess she - thought I would. But I didn’t. And then I think she kind of - figured it out.”

“Figured out what?” Ted asks him, his own heart speeding up in his chest.

Bill starts to pull back, and Ted makes a quiet noise, a kind of wordless complaint - but he doesn’t go far. He keeps one hand on Ted’s back, and the other shifts to the nape of Ted’s neck. Bill’s thumb shifts over his skin, then pushes up under Ted’s jaw, nudging his face up so they can see each other.

Bill’s brow is furrowed, his face set in a determined frown as he meets Ted’s eyes. “Ted, dude, I-” he says, and then he stops, opening and closing his mouth a few times, looking totally lost for words. Ted knows the feeling.

Ignoring the way his hand trembles as he does it, he reaches up and touches Bill’s cheek, gently. He marvels at the way Bill’s stubble feels under his fingers, the roughness against his palm. Then he reaches up with his thumb and rubs over the little furrow in Bill’s brow, smoothing over it. “I think I get it, dude,” Ted tells him.

Bill’s eyes widen, and his mouth falls open - just slightly. “Yeah?” He asks, squeezing at Ted’s waist. “You - really?”

Ted nods, and leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Me, too.”

When Bill exhales, Ted can feel the puff of air against his face, and he shivers a little. Bill tilts his head, and nudges their noses together, and Ted inhales sharply.

There’s a long, lingering moment, though, where neither of them lean in any closer. Bill’s hands move down to Ted’s shoulders and rub over his arms, up and down over his skin, rucking up his sleeves again. Ted wants to kiss him, finally, of course he does - but he’s also just enjoying the way Bill’s hands feel, warm on his skin. He feels like they’re both caught up in it - the kind of quiet disbelief of getting to touch, after so long not really letting themselves.

Ted shifts his hand from Bill’s cheek to the back of his head, moving through his curls, and closes his eyes, sighing.

Bill nudges in closer again, and their lips are almost brushing. “Can I kiss you, dude?” he asks, a rough whisper in the quiet of their empty garage.

Ted just nods, the slightest up and down motion of his head - and then Bill’s lips are pressed against his.

Their first kiss is soft and hesitant, just one tender press of lips before they both pull back and exhale in a rush. For all that Ted’s been waiting for it for 30 years, there’s no real fanfare - just the softness of Bill’s lips and way his hand clutches at the back of Ted’s neck.

His toes curl against the garage floor, though, and Ted barely waits a moment before he pushes forward to kiss Bill again. Their noses bump, a little, and Ted has to remember to tilt his head, and try again, catching Bill’s bottom lip in between his and sighing against his mouth. He stays close, and kisses him again, and again, never really moving away, just opening his mouth to breathe.

Finally, after a handful of soft, lingering kisses, just presses of lips, Bill pushes his hand into Ted’s hair, and shifts on the couch to get even closer, and tilts Ted’s head back so he can kiss him deeply. Ted parts his lips on a gasp, and Bill licks into his mouth, tugging desperately at Ted’s hair and wrapping his free arm around Ted’s shoulders, holding him as close as possible.

Their open-mouthed kisses are desperate - Bill seems almost hungry, the way he licks at the roof of Ted’s mouth, bites at his lower lip, keeps him as close as possible and shows no signs of letting go. Ted feels the same way, though. He places both of his hands on the back of Bill’s head, holding him there and giving back as good as he gets, making quiet sounds into their kiss as he pushes his own tongue against Bill’s, shivering at the feeling, at the strange intimate sensation of it.

Bill breaks the kiss, but still just pushes his forehead back against Ted’s, panting into the inch of space between their mouths. “We should have done this way sooner,” Bill sighs out between breaths.

Ted shakes his head, rolling his forehead against Bill’s. “It’s okay, dude. We still got plenty of time.” He brushes his hands down Bill’s neck, down to his shoulders, then his arms, squeezing gently at the muscles there. “We figured it out now, that’s what counts.”

“Mm,” Bill mumbles, and then he nudges forward for another kiss - his mouth is still damp from their kisses and Ted can feel it. When Bill pulls back again, Ted can’t resist licking over his lips, just to taste them, the salt of his skin, and then he bites at Bill’s bottom lip, tugging just enough to open his mouth, so he can lean in for another deeper kiss.

This time, Ted loses himself to it, just the feeling of Bill’s lips, each touch of his hands, the way they move restlessly over Ted’s back and arms and neck and hair, desperate to touch every inch of him. Ted’s doing the same - pushing his fingertips up under the sleeves of Bill’s shirt, tracing the lines of his muscles, rubbing his palms over the soft warmth of his skin.

“I wanna-” Bill pants out between kisses, “I wanna do more than just kiss you, dude.”

“I,  _ hm _ \- I don’t know that the couch in the garage is the best place for that, dude,” Ted tells him, and as he finishes his sentence, he bursts into giggles, suddenly feeling giddy. In part it’s the ridiculous nature of the two of them making out on the couch like they’re back in their 20s, back in their old apartment - and the other part is that he finally gets to have that, to have this thing he’s thought about and imagined so many times he’s lost count.

Bill laughs with him, and pulls back to watch, pushing Ted’s hair out of his face with a smile. “Maybe you’re right.”

Ted’s eyes flutter open, and he finally really looks at Bill for the first time since they started making out. His eyes are dark, his mouth bright pink and raw from kissing. Ted puts a hand on his cheek again and traces his thumb just under Bill’s bottom lip as he smiles. “Hey, dude.”

Bill’s grin widens, and he pets a hand over the back of Ted’s neck, looking at him just as fondly, his eyes tracing over Ted’s eyes, and his mouth, each feature of his face. “Hey, Ted.”

Reaching out his free hand, Bill wiggles his fingers, and Ted reaches back, wiggling their fingers together before he grabs Bill’s hand properly, and their fingers intertwine. He squeezes gently, and Bill squeezes back.

He looks down at their hands, sees the familiar shape of Bill’s fingers pushed in between his, the veins on the back of his hand covered by Ted’s fingers. It’s an unfamiliar sight - but there’s something comfortable about it - something absolutely right.

“I love you, dude,” Ted tells him, glancing back up to catch his eyes.

Bill’s mouth quirks up at one corner and he squeezes Ted’s hand again. “I love you, too, Ted.”

Ted uses their tangled fingers to tug Bill closer again, and pulls him into another hug, face pressed against his shoulder. “I just - I’m really glad you came over to talk. Ever since we first - saw those other uses, the ones in the van, and at Dave Grohl’s house, I just - I don’t know, I’ve been thinking a lot, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Bill presses.

“They just - they seemed different, you know? And not just the bad stuff, like - with each other. I just kept thinking about it.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bill nods, and now he brushes Ted’s hair out of the way, pressing their cheeks together. “I do - think I get what you mean, actually.”

“We’re not- this doesn’t mean we’re gonna end up like that, right?” Ted whispers.

Wrapping an arm tight around Ted’s shoulders, Bill shakes his head. “No way, dude. We talked to Liz and Jo, we saved the world, Billie and Thea helped us - and this is good, Ted. We’re - we don’t have to worry about that stuff anymore. The song, or any of that. It’s just us. This isn’t gonna mess anything up.”

He knows that Bill is right, knows that anything that makes him feel this warm and comfortable and happy couldn’t possibly lead him down the path to actual prison - but it’s still nice to hear Bill say it out loud. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agrees with a nod. “I just - I wanted to make sure.”

Bill turns his head, and kisses Ted at his temple, lingering there to nuzzle briefly against his hair before he turns and presses their cheeks together again. “I get it. But don’t worry about any of that. Things are gonna be good from here. I can feel it.”

Ted presses a hand to the center of Bill’s back, and feels the way his heart beats fast under his shirt. He doesn’t know exactly what’ll happen now, other than him and Bill trying to fall asleep together, curled up on the couch. They’ll probably wake up sore, and tired, and happy, and then there’ll be living arrangements to figure out, people to tell, paperwork to do - but at least he’ll have Bill there to do it all with him.

He sighs, and kisses Bill’s shoulder over his shirt, then turns his head to kiss at his neck, and his jaw, just brushing his lips over his skin, just to see how it feels. “I think you’re right, Bill.” And of course - if those wise old dudes in the retirement center can be trusted, Bill probably is.

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY!!! i know it's not much but basically this fic just sort of attacked me at 3 am last night and wouldn't let me go so. i had to finish it. something something old gay ted feelings. i just love him. thank you. find me on twitter @eddykaspbraks if you so desire or just yell at me here, whatever dude!!! i hope you enjoyed it either way.


End file.
